


Love and other Remedies

by nyromes



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Belly Bulging, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemas, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Hypochondria, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyromes/pseuds/nyromes
Summary: Joly fears he might have caught the flu.Bossuet, well... Bossuet is just happy to do anything to make him feel better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no idea where this came from, but hey, here I am, owning up to my kinks.
> 
> This is an enema fic, in case you haven't read the tags, so if that's not your thing, don't read. There is no scat though, if that's what you're worried about.

Bossuet knows something's wrong when he comes home and calls for his friend and is greeted with silence. Joly isn’t out, his shoes and coat are still there in the hall, neatly stored away and hung in the closet, but there is no answer to Bossuet’s _hey love_ or his more worried _Joly?_

After all these years, Bossuet feels like he should know how to deal with situations like these, but the truth is that his heart still clenches in apprehension whenever Joly doesn’t feel well. Sure, in most cases Joly’s fears are unfounded, but that doesn’t make his pain and anxiety any less real or any less daunting to Bossuet.

His mind is whirling as he toes off his shoes and stumbles into the living room.

He finds Joly sitting on the floor, his back against the sofa and his knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the open laptop on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes are wet with unshed tears, his breath coming in shallow gasps and when Bossuet sits down next to him he’s too caught up in his thoughts to look at him.

“Joly, love?” Bossuet asks tentatively, reaching out, but not touching his friend yet. His hand hovers over Joly’s shoulder. “Joly, do you- Can I touch you?”

Time passes painfully slowly as Bossuet waits, but eventually Joly nods. Bossuet scoots closer and wraps his arms around the other boy. A sob escapes from Joly’s open mouth when he breaks through his torpidity and melts into Bossuet’s embrace, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The older boy cards his fingers through Joly’s soft hair, pain written onto his face in clear, deep lines.

He looks at the open page on Joly’s laptop, scanning the text. It’s something about stomach bugs, about symptoms of influenza and treatment alternatives to pharmaceutical drugs. There is another window about the benefits and drawbacks of enemas, as well as detailed instructions and tips on how to do them. Bossuet only now notices the white cardboard box on the floor next to Joly.

“I’m sorry,” Joly stammers, his voice muffled by Bossuet’s green hoodie. “God, I- I don’t know- How do you put up with me? Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize.” Bossuet kisses the top of his head. “I don’t mind. You’re worth it. You’d do the same.” A small smile crosses his lips and he hugs Joly a little tighter.

“What’s this about?” Bossuet asks, nodding at the laptop in front of them, hoping to sound casual and not as concerned as he feels. “Think you’ve got the flu?”

Joly nods, then shakes his head weakly. “I don’t-” He snivels. “I don’t know.”

He wipes a hand over his eyes and glances at the instructions on the screen.

“I didn’t want to take medication just yet, ‘cause- I know I’m probably just imagining this… I know it’s nothing, it just- It feels wrong, something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

Tears are streaming down his face as he places a hand over his stomach, gripping at the fabric of his sweater. “I’m such a freak…” He is sobbing again, trying to turn away and bury his face between his knees, but Bossuet pulls him closer and Joly is too distraught to resist.

“You’re not a freak,” Bossuet says. He feels helpless in this role, so incapable, but he tries his best to make his voice sound firm and comforting. He means what he says. “It’s not your fault, okay? We can deal with this. You’re gonna be fine.”

Joly shakes his head. “I’m not…” His breath hitches. “I’m not okay, I mean- Why me? Why can’t I be like-” He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s fighting a headache, the heel of his palm pressed against his temple. “Like Jehan? Or Fey? Or like Ferre, or- ” His breath hitches, causing him to cough and Bossuet pats his back, handing him a tissue from the drawer under the coffee table when he snuffles.

Joly relaxes, if only a little.

“They all have their quirks,” declares Bossuet, chuckling fondly. “Besides, I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if you were someone else.”

It coaxes just the tiniest smile out of Joly.

“I love you, too,” he mumbles.

“I know,” Bossuet grins affectionately. He reaches for the cardboard box and places it in his lap, studying the label of the enema kit. He doesn’t open the box.

“You wanna do that?”

Joly nods barely noticeably. “Yeah. I- I wanted to try, but- I’m scared… And so embarrassed, but I don’t know what else…”

“You think it would help?”

Joly nods again.

Bossuet smiles. “It’s okay,” he says after a moment’s consideration. “We can do it if you want? Unless you want to do it yourself. But I wouldn’t mind if you need help.”

It’s the truth. There’s worse things he’d do for Joly and he knows it’s useless to tell his friend there’s no reason to worry. Joly knows that just as well as Bossuet. But if this is what it takes to allay his fears and make him feel safer then Bossuet’s ready to give it a try. He’s mostly just glad his love is not opting for prescription pills again.

Joly draws back a little so he can sit on his heels, his shoulders slouched. He looks so vulnerable it breaks Bossuet’s heart.

“You’ll think I’m disgusting,” he says after a while, looking down at his hands. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Maybe not,” Bossuet says, “But I offered. I’ll help you if you think it’ll make you feel better. I won’t think any less of you because of it. We’ve known each other for twelve years, you’ve seen me in so many embarrassing situations, there’s no way this would change anything.”

He grins when he notices the slight smile on his friend’s lips. “I remember,” Joly chuckles. Well, at least Bossuet’s bad luck has managed to lighten the mood.

“See? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Joly still looks sceptical, but he nods.

Bossuet leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead before brushing his lips against Joly’s.

“We’ll be fine,” he murmurs, “Don’t worry.”

His hand find’s the younger boy’s and he squeezes it gently, reassuring him.

“Wanna do it today or do you want to wait and see if you feel better tomorrow?”

“Don’t think I could sleep like this... It’s like I can feel the bugs crawling under my skin,” Joly admits.

Bossuet smiles understandingly. “It’s okay, love. We can do it now if you want. I’ll just need a few minutes to read up on this.”

“Thanks,” Joly nods, looking truly grateful.

He clutches his stomach and curls up on the carpet, placing his head in the older boy’s lap and leaning into the soft pressure of Bossuet’s fingers running through his hair, as his friend reaches for the laptop and opens a new tab.

*.*.*

Joly is shivering slightly as he sits down on the bathroom floor, his back against the tub. It’s a little colder than the rest of the apartment and he’s already naked, so Bossuet hands him one of their large fluffy towels to wrap around his shoulders before he turns up the heating. They’re both a little nervous, Bossuet can tell Joly’s still a bit uncomfortable, but the instructions and reported experiences they found online were actually quite reassuring.

Bossuet carefully pours the last of the coffee mixture into the enema bag before closing the top. Coffee enemas seemed to be quite popular with the internet community, and they were fairly easy to prepare, so they decided to try that.

“How’s the temperature?” Bossuet asks once he’s closed the bag securely, holding it out for Joly to feel. He’s made sure it’s not too hot or cold, just about body temperature, but it’s Joly’s opinion that counts.

“It’s good,” the younger boy mutters, smiling shyly. “Feels warm.”

Bossuet smiles back and attaches the plastic hose to the bag, hanging it on a towel hook before changing into an old pair of sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. He knows his luck. There’s really no need to risk getting coffee stains on a perfectly good pair of jeans.

Joly watches him silently, a light blush spreading over his cheeks when Bossuet catches him staring. Maybe later, Bossuet thinks, when Joly feels better, he’ll pull him close under the covers of their bed and kiss him senseless, wrapping his hand around both their cocks and taking it slow until Joly’s whimpering and Bossuet can feel him press closer, his arms clinging to the older boy’s shoulders.

Bossuet smiles at the thought.

He kneels down in front of his friend and brushes the hair out of his face, kissing him lovingly. “Relax,” he whispers, “It’ll be fine. It’s probably gonna feel better than you think.”

Joly takes a breath, then sighs, nodding uncertainly.

“Do you wanna lie on your back? It’s probably easier than staying on all fours for half an hour.”

“Yeah,” Joly mumbles, barely audible.

He shuffles a little before lying down on the towel Bossuet’s placed on the floor, his knees bent and his hands wrapped around his waist. He bites his lips.

“Can you raise your hips a little?” Bossuet asks, reaching for another towel and waiting for Joly to move before sliding it under his hips, keeping them elevated.

Joly’s breathing is shallow now, his chest rising and falling faster than usually.

“I’m nervous,” he admits when Bossuet’s hand finds his, the older boy’s thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“I know. It’s okay. I’m a bit nervous, too. Don’t worry.”

Joly nods.

“You need to relax a little, love,” Bossuet says, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The younger boy opens his mouth, then closes it again. He takes another breath. Eventually, he turns his eyes up to Bossuet’s, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I- Can I kiss you?”

The hesitation in Joly’s voice is heart-breaking, so Bossuet leans down and nudges his friend’s nose with his own, smiling brightly. Gentle fingers trace along Joly’s hairline before Bossuet closes the gap between them and brushes their lips together. He can feel the way the other boy’s hands hold onto his shoulders and then travel up to the back of his neck as Joly melts into the kiss. Slowly but surely, some of the tension leaves his body, making him go slack in his friend’s arms.

He’s no longer shaking when he breaks away and gasps for air. His lips are turned up in a smile, cautious but honest.

He’s so beautiful. Bossuet can’t help but tell him.

Joly beams at the compliment and leans into the hand on his cheek, looking up at his friend like there’s nothing more important in this world than him.

“I love you,” he says after a while. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Bossuet squeezes his hand. “I love you, too.”

They’re both smiling, until Joly looks around the room and his smile breaks into a grin. “This is so absurd,” he chuckles, “So weird.”

Bossuet is grinning, too.

“It is, maybe… But it’s our kind of weird so I love it.” He reaches for the lube on the sink. “Still wanna do this?”

“Yeah,” Joly nods, “I’m good.”

He watches as Bossuet pours a little lube onto his palm and spreads it over his fingers, sliding them down between Joly’s legs. Bossuet goes slow, one finger tracing Joly’s rim as he waits for Joly to relax before carefully pushing inside. He doesn’t move, giving his friend time to adjust to the sensation, until the younger boy looks up at him and nods.

The tip of the enema is thin, not bigger than Bossuet’s finger, so there’s no need for more preparation. Bossuet uses the rest of the lube on his hand to spread it over the end of the tube and the enema tip and then wipes his hand on a towel before gently pressing the soft rubber tip against Joly’s entrance. It slips in easily and without resistance, and when he looks up at Joly’s face, the boy’s eyes are closed, his head tipped back. He slides the tube a bit deeper, twisting it slightly, and Joly’s hand finds the fabric of his sweatpants, his fingers tugging at the material as his breath hitches just a little.

“Do you need a minute?” Bossuet asks when the enema tip is all the way inside, but Joly shakes his head.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the older boy’s hand.

He freezes when Bossuet opens the clamp and the liquid starts flowing, his breath coming in short, shaky gasps. Bossuet is ready to close the clamp again when Joly tugs at his hand, squeezing tightly. “Don’t stop.”

A smile crosses his lips at Bossuet’s obvious confusion, but he relaxes again, letting his head fall back onto the towel.

“How’s it feel?” Bossuet asks.

“Weird,” Joly considers, “But good weird. Kind of nice. And warm.”

The bag is slowly emptying, and Bossuet watches intently as Joly’s belly bulges ever so slightly. It’s not much, but it’s clearly noticeable on the boy’s skinny frame, almost as if he were pregnant. It's not something he's thought about before, or something he particularly wishes were possible - he doesn't think he'd be ready to become a father, at least not at this point in his life - but the thought of a little version of Joly running around the apartment hits him with unexpected force.

“Can- Can I-” Bossuet’s fingers hover over Joly’s tummy.

Joly nods. “Feels good,” he says when Bossuet’s hand moves over his stomach. The touch is almost reverent. “So full.”

Bossuet’s mouth falls open when he feels Joly’s muscles shift under his palm, the liquid moving in his friend’s belly.

“You’re amazing,” he mutters, leaning down for a kiss, his hand still splayed on Joly’s stomach. “So beautiful.”

Joly chuckles, raising his head to press their foreheads together.

Suddenly, his muscles seize up and he gasps, a high-pitched cry ripping itself from his throat. Bossuet withdraws instantly.

There are tears in Joly’s eyes that he tries to bite back, and for a moment Bossuet is too shocked to react.

“Cramps,” Joly grinds out, breathing heavy. “Can you, ah- help me- turn onto my side?” He grips Bossuet’s arm, trying to shift.

“Shit, okay, yeah-” Bossuet stammers. He quickly places his hand under friend’s shoulder and moves him up a little. Joly’s whimpering pitifully, but they manage to turn him onto his side and the pain seems to subside. He’s no longer gritting his teeth; his grip is no longer painful on Bossuet’s arm.

“Better?”

Joly smiles weakly. “Yeah… Thanks.”

Bossuet glances at the now empty bag hanging from the towel hook.

“You should hold it for at least ten minutes… Think you can do that?”

Joly moves a hand down to the bulge in his stomach, taking a moment to consider. “Yeah…” he mumbles eventually, “Feels better now.”

He shivers a little and Bossuet wraps the towel back around his shoulders, tucking him in.

“Can you hold it if I take out the tube?”

The younger boy bites his lip before he nods.

“You’re doing really well,” Bossuet assures him, “I’m so proud of you.”

He removes the tube slowly, watching Joly’s expression for any signs of discomfort, but Joly merely looks tired.

Once the tip of the enema slides free Bossuet places the bag and tube in the sink and lies down facing his friend, wiping his thumb over the boy’s cheeks to catch the tears that have spilled. He kisses Joly’s forehead as Joly snuggles closer, resting his head on Bossuet’s arm.

“It’s just a few more minutes,” Bossuet says comfortingly.

Joly hums. “It’s not bad anymore… I- I think I like it. It feels good… And I like having you here.” He smiles, and it’s positively contagious.

They’re both a little reluctant when they have to move about twenty minutes later, but the floor’s not all that comfortable and Joly’s threatening to fall asleep in his best friend’s arms.

“Do you want to do this on your own?” Bossuet asks, noticing the hesitation on Joly’s face.

The boy blushes, looking a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Bossuet reassures. “I’ll wait outside.”

“Thanks.” Joly smiles.

“Any time.”

Bossuet presses a last kiss to the top of Joly’s head and then leaves the room, granting his friend some privacy. He makes hot chocolate for the both of them while he waits, and opts for almond milk instead of dairy because of Joly’s self-diagnosed lactose intolerance. It tasted weird to him at first, but he’s gotten used to it by now.

He can hear Joly taking a shower when he sets the cups down on a bedside table and places his friend’s pyjamas and socks over the radiator to warm them. By the time Joly steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, the clothes are cosy and warm and Joly is having trouble staying awake even as Bossuet helps him get dressed.

There’s no resistance when Bossuet leads him to their bed and tucks him in, handing him the cup of hot chocolate before crawling under the covers himself and sitting with his back against the headboard. He pulls Joly closer, so that the younger boy can lay his head on his chest.

“How’s your flu?” Bossuet asks. “Feeling better?”

Joly hums contentedly, taking a careful sip from his cup.

“I think it’s better already…” he declares, “But we might have to do that again tomorrow… Just to make sure.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's just not enough Joly/Bossuet. They're adorable. I love them way too much.
> 
> Anyway, as always, I'm super nervous about this, so please let me know what you think :)


End file.
